


Miso Soup for the Cold Shinobi

by AwayLaughing



Series: All The Days That Have Passed [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cooking, Dorks in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1868253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People have been known to say a kitchen is a castle unto itself. Sadly, Neji's kingdom is empty of all stock, and it's lone occupant is hungry. Not that it would be all that helpful otherwise, he's never been a renowned chef.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miso Soup for the Cold Shinobi

**Author's Note:**

> This is neither a self help collection of stories, nor really about miso.
> 
> Challenge from [here](http://awayandlaughing.tumblr.com/post/68217772129/30-day-otp-challenge-for-the-fluff-impaired)
> 
> Day 6 - Cooking

Snow piled outside the door, and Neji watched it glumly, regarding his bare cupboards. The weather was too severe to order anything, and chances were everything was closed anyway. Konoha rarely saw more than sixty centimetres in the entire year, but this storm was likely to be at least half that. Shikamaru had warned him, but a last minute mission had called him away. By the time he'd gotten home, it was too late to grocery shop, so here he was.

 

Of course he could simply walk down to the main house. He'd lived there for almost fifteen years, when he'd moved out he'd been explicitly informed the door was always open. Pride dictated he try and find something here first. He admittedly wasn't very good in the kitchen, but he didn't need to be. He just needed to last the next twelve hours, or so the predictions based on everyone else who'd been hit by this storm said.

 

Sighing, he stood, checking first the fridge. He had some milk which, by some miracle wasn't bad, and some two wilted carrots. A quarter cup of rice, and that was being optimistic, made up the rest of his haul. Not exactly food fit for a champion. Or anyone with an appetite.

 

Scowling, he reached for a pot hanging over the stove, stopping short at a faint noise. After a second it came louder, a definite knock on the front door. Unsure of who would be so insane as to climb his thirty some stairs in a blizzard he paused only long enough to make sure he had a kunai with him. Opening the door he had to squint to see who it was, the snow was blowing every which way as if the wind couldn't decide where to blow. 

“Shikamaru?” he asked after a second, speaking over the wind. He could see the other was holding something in both arms.

 

“You gonna let me in or are you enjoying the ice pellets to the face?”

 

Neji stepped back, turning to go get a change and a towel. As bare as the kitchen was, at the very least he'd gotten to do laundry before being dragged to the far corners of Fire Country as a simple caravan guard. Grabbing a sweater and some plain cotton bottoms for Shikamaru he wondered at the timing. After a moment he also took a pair of rarely used socks. The last on the list was a towel. When he returned to the living area he spotted Shikamaru shivering in the kitchen.

 

“You know, the towel was so you wouldn't track snow melt all over my floor,” he said even as he handed it over to the Nara. Shikamaru cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Because you have so much floor to track water across,” he said, stripping off his clothing, and only then Neji realized he was in nothing more than his jōnin blues and flak jacket.

 

“It's the principle,” he said, “and did no one ever tell you how to dress for the winter?”

 

“I just got back from Suna,” Shikamaru said. “I was going to just go to bed.”

 

“And yet here you are,” Neji's eyes trailed to the counter, “with groceries. Is anything even open right now?”

 

“The hospital and only the hospital. This is all from my house.”

 

Neji, partially distracted by watching Shikamaru wriggle out of his very wet pants, cocked his head in silent question.

 

“I passed Udon on the way here,” Shikamaru said. “He was fighting his way to Kurenai's. Apparently to help Konohamaru babysit.” Neji failed to see the connection to Udon babysitting Kurenai's daughter and Shikamaru's magical knowledge of Neji's lack of groceries.

 

“And...?”

 

“Udon mentioned the mission you got sent on last Wednesday. You buy groceries on Thursdays.” He towelled his hair, leaving Neji trying not to stare at his...anything.

 

“I'm not that predictable.”

 

“So these carrots are just your preferred culinary offerings?” Shikamaru asked.

 

“Oh just put on a shirt, you're practically turning blue,” Neji said, finally leaving the doorway to see what was in the bags Shikamaru brought. It was fairly standard fare. Dashi, eggs, kelp, onions, leeks, various fish and noodles. “You were in Suna for what, just a day longer than I was gone? How are you so well stocked?”

 

“Chōji, Ino and I have an agreement,” Shikamaru said. “Maybe you should think of asking Hinata or Hanabi to keep you stocked when you're too busy.”

 

“Hanabi's often just as busy herself, even if she's kept home more often. You know running a clan is no easy business,” Neji said, "and Hinata is away quite often." After a moments deliberation he put away the all but two eggs and left everything else out.

 

"Oh boy do I,” was all Shikamaru said, voice muffled. A moment later, and in a clearer voice he added, “you can put all the fish away except the herring, if you want. And the shrimp, if you want it.”

 

Neji did so, keeping both out. Putting the other fish away he tried to figure out what exactly it was. “Hamachi?”

 

“Ding ding,” Shikamaru said, padding over to him. Neji was mildly amused to see he had indeed put on the socks. “Do not laugh at me, you're wearing them too.”

 

“I didn't say a word,” Neji said, serenely pulling a knife from it's holder. “I'll chop? I assume we're going with miso...” he looked back over the ingredients. “Of a sort.”

 

Shikamaru chuckled, “I call it yosegire miso.” As he spoke he took down a pot and opened the dashi container, sniffing it.

 

“Is something wrong with it?” Neji asked.

 

“Nah, just seeing if it was store bought or home made.”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Helps me figure out who bought the groceries,” Shikamaru said. “Some times, anyway.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Chōji's mom makes huge batches, so he's most likely to give home made stuff. Ino likes making it, but she's so busy with running the Intel agents ragged she doesn't always have the time.”

 

“I can sympathize with that,” Neji said, idly putting a daikon on the board and rapidly chopping. Shikamaru gave what was decidedly a snicker.

 

“You couldn't make dashi if your life depended on it,” he said. “Well maybe from a box.”

 

Neji shot him a glare, but couldn't exactly dispute the claim. He had a tendency to over season, when he wasn’t burning the food. Over seasoning was a death knell for dashi. Oven work went slightly better, as long as he didn't have to do it from scratch.

 

“No rejoinder?” Shikamaru asked.

 

“Indeed not. Knowledge of your failures is a strength in it's own right,” he said. Shikamaru's laugh had him ducking to hide his smile. “You don't agree?”

 

“Oh I do,” Shikamaru said, “I acknowledge my flaws all the time.”

 

“You revel in them,” Neji said. “All the napping you still manage to fit into your schedule...perhaps art is a better word for it.”

 

“I will not shamed by you, Hyūga Neji,” Shikamaru said, waving his spoon in a way so similar to Nara Yoshino Neji had to choke down a snicker. Neji could hear the smile in his voice, however. Neji abandoned his vegetables and knife to come up behind him, looping an arm around the trim waist.

 

“Never,” Neji agreed, kissing his cheek. “You're still cold.”

 

“Yeah, it's kind of snowing outside.”

 

“Want to warm up?” Neji said. Shikamaru wrinkled his nose, stirring the stock.

 

“Soup is warm,” he said. Neji raised an eyebrow. “See this is why all your food burns. Go chop...” he waved his hand.

 

“Food?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Neji chuckled releasing him with another kiss to the cheek. “How small do you like your kelp?”

 

“Big,” was the reply. “And you can put one of those eggs away, if you plan on boiling them.”

 

“I would not dream of it Shikamaru. We can poach them, if you prefer.”

 

Shikamaru appeared to be considering the option, abandoning his spoon to grab another knife. “Poached is fine. Do you have another cutting board?”

 

“The drawer under the sink,” Neji said, “there's more cutting boards than any single person should ever need in there.” He wasn't even exaggerating, Neji cooked as little as possible, which wasn't hard as, once one combined all his mission time he was home maybe seven months out of twelve. And that was being generous. Seven cutting boards went above and beyond the call of kitchen duty.

 

“Pink, Neji?”

 

“One of Hanabi's house warming gifts,” Neji said. “The other being the pink and purple quilt in the living room.”

 

“Merciful Bodhisattva, that...thing on the couch?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“That thing is hideous. I was starting to assume you were colour blind to one or both colours in it,” Shikamaru said. “Ino would light it on fire if she saw two such clashing colours in one creation. Did Hanabi seriously expect you to use it?”

 

“No,” Neji said, “she keeps trying to steal it back.”

 

“Why?” Shikamaru said, both eyebrows up, lip curled in what Neji could only call a dubious grimace.

 

“Possibly to burn it,” Neji said, “she keeps saying it's embarrassing just knowing it's visible from the door.”

 

“It is embarrassing,” Shikamaru said. “Why aren't you burning it yourself?”

 

Neji considered it only for a moment. “She meant it as a joke, but it's hand made. I appreciate the effort, no matter whose it is.”

 

Shikamaru didn't say anything for a long moment. “Does Hanabi know that?”

 

“Not at all. I've sealed it to the back of the couch and told her it's a training exercise. She cannot rely on her kekkei genkai or plain taijutsu for everything, after all.”

 

“You are an evil, evil man,” Shikamaru said. “Are you done with he vegetables?”

 

“Indeed,” Neji said, “I assume you don't want the Enoki chopped.”

 

“However big you want them, as long as they fit in the pot. They go in last, anyway,” Shikamaru said even as he came to scoop up the sweet potatoes and daikon. Neji watched him, needing nothing more than a few seconds to chop the mushrooms to the correct size. Shikamaru dumped the vegetables he did have into the pot rather unceremoniously before turning back to Neji.

 

“Well, that's it for a few minutes. Then the fish.” Neji nodded to show he understood and set down his knife. “Anything to do until then?”

 

Neji shrugged. “I'm sure we'll figure something out.” Shikamaru laughed.

 

“Oh no doubt. Just don't expect anything fun, I don't want to burn the soup.” Neji nodded, pulling Shikamaru toward the couch and the hideous quilt. Neji could see Shikamaru considering refusing to go near it, but the lazy nature of the younger man won out.

 

“For the record, I protest that thing.”

 

“Noted.”

 

“A lot.”

 

“Noted.”

 

Shikamaru was silent for a moment. “Is it warm, at least.” Neji laughed before reaching over to undo the seal. Shikamaru, apparently appeased, grumbled before cuddling into Neji's side. The smell of the simmering vegetables was all ready reaching them, and Neji's stomach grumbled in response. He felt Shikamaru smile against his shoulder, but nothing was said. Instead, they listened to the howl of the wind outside, the beating of the snow, and the soft bubble of the soup.

 

Neji had never gotten so lucky by simply lacking groceries. He doubted he would again.

 


End file.
